


The Right Kind of Trouble

by Captain_Starr



Series: The Chronicles of the Nexu [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Comfort, Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Starr/pseuds/Captain_Starr
Summary: Jaxon Starr, Synna Gedrow, and Corso Riggs are running an easy mission to Concordia, Mandalore's forest moon. An unexpected series of events leads to a bounty hunter named Ziminder Antilles being taken into the crew for a while. Having been conflicted lately, Ziminder finds comfort with his new friends that he didn't realize he needed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick Note: Jaxon is mute (for several reasons) so he uses 'Galactic Standard Sign Language'. To show signing versus speaking, I'm using italics and apostrophes instead of quotes.

Jaxon Starr stepped down off the ship’s ramp, boots stepping into fresh grass of Concordia. The sharp pleasant tang of the broken leaves reached his nose, but didn’t stop the frown on his angular features. A crease of worry showed between vivid blue eyes as he pushed a multi-colored dreadlock out of his face. He turned to Synna, watching the athletic redhead join him. Corso, a dark-skinned Kiffar, was next, looking quietly excited. Breathing out a little frustrated sound, Jax wasted no time. He rapidly signed at Synna the moment she looked at him.

Green eyes widened a moment before she held up her hands, signing back a single word. _‘Slower!’_ She chuckled and spoke, repeating the sign. “Slower, Jax, you’re talking too fast.”

The blond man frowned harder and making one slow sign that was his version of shouting. His movements were sharp, short, and frustrated. **_‘Trouble.’_**

She rolled her eyes, stepping past him. She waved a hand, leading the way to the small settlement they landed outside of. “We’re not going to get into trouble. It’ll be fine.”

Jax scoffed and moved to walk with her. Corso trotted behind them, using the load lifter to move the six crates they were delivering. _‘I still don’t like this idea. Can't you use--’_ he signed, but slower so she could follow easier.

Synna shook her head, gaining a stubborn expression. “For the modifications I want, the only thing that works is Mandalorian iron. We need it.”

Jax sighed, an raspy sound from his scarred throat. _‘I don’t want to have a bunch of angry Mandalorians chasing us over this,'_  he warned, blue eyes narrowing at her. _'You know how protective they are about this iron of theirs.’_

She waved a hand at him with grin. “It’s going to be fine. Trust me.”

Jax gave an exaggerated rasping huff. He looked at the Kiffar for help. He made a little growl as Corso grinned at him. “Don’t worry, Captain. I got your back. We can handle this.”

Giving up his protest, the blond man made a curt sign of _‘Fine!’_. Frowning, Jax followed after them to go deal with the Mandalorians.

* * *

It actually went far smoother than Jax had worried about. The old, scarred Mandalorian they met up with had cybernetics in the place of his left arm and leg. He limped a bit, but there was a fierce confidence even though he was well into middle age. Steel-gray eyes swept over the three _Nexu_ crew members for a long moment before he nodded a curt greeting. With a grunt, the miner turned away and spoke with Synna. He basically ignored Jax and Corso while they unloaded his new equipment. There wasn’t even a need to haggle. He looked over the gear, nodded and gestured at them to take a single large crate. Synna didn’t even look inside to Jax’s surprise. That worried him, but he stayed silent until they left the small warehouse.

 _‘How do you know he gave you what you wanted?’_ he signed, raising his eyebrows at her. _‘What if it’s not the iron? Or it’s not pure.’_

Synna gave him a look and shook her head. “He’s a Mandalorian from a good clan. He’ll keep his word. Honor’s important to them.”

Jax blinked but let it go. The equipment hadn’t cost them much and Synna had a confidence that was hard to argue with at the moment. _‘So what now?’_

“I have a guy that can shape it for us,” she said with a smile. “Another Mandalorian. He’s exiled but he’s a good metalsmith. He can do what I need. He’s done it before.”

Jax heaved another raspy sigh, but didn’t comment otherwise. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Mandalorians; it was more that crossing Mandalorians didn’t often end well. Stealing their _beskar_ was a damn good way to piss off them off. Well, it wasn’t quite stealing, but they were touchy about who got it. On the other hand, they did sell it sometimes and it wasn’t like they were going to make big flashy weapons. Engine parts were unlikely to draw much attention. No one would know they were _beskar_ without being told. He got the impression Synna was going to prefer to keep her design secrets to herself.

The blond human jerked out of his worried thoughts at the sound of a fist hitting flesh. He stopped and turned to look, even though Synna and Corso kept going. His hearing was enhanced due to his implants; without them he was almost deaf. The extra sensitivity could be both a blessing and a curse though. Right now, he went with blessing as he headed off the road and around a corner. Fights weren’t exactly uncommon in Mandalorian territory. Logically, he knew it was none of his business. Still the words being spat in _Mando’a_ didn’t have the playful tone good-natured roughhousing did.

He stepped around the corner and his jaw set angrily at what he saw. There were three Mandalorians in full armor with a clan markings Jax didn't know. Their armor was typical in design; shades of gray, brown, and green. All had very short hair and clean-shaved faces, practical for wearing their distinctive helmets. Each Mandalorian had blondish hair and square features that made them all look related. That was likely if it was a small clan. They presented a strong contrast to the man they surrounded.

For one, their victim wore no armor at all. He only wore just dark pants and shirt under a green leather jacket. The jacket alone looked like it was enough to pay a week's rent for a nice apartment. His skin was a warm bronze; a few shades lighter than the deep chestnut of his hair and eyes. He was handsome with sculpted features and a strong jaw. At least Jax thought he would be under a swollen lip, bloody nose, and a gash across his forehead.

One of the Mandalorians was leaning against a wall; bloody-nosed and clutching himself. If Jax had to guess, he’d say the darker-haired man had head-butted him and driven a knee into the Mando's balls. Unfortunately, the dark-haired man was still outnumbered and they weren’t playing ‘fair’. One Mandalorian was twisting their captive’s arms behind him to the point of dislocation. The other punched him hard in the stomach. Their captive gasped in pain, but that didn't stop him from lashing out, slamming a heel into one's thigh. The Mandalorian punching staggered back, spitting insults in his own tongue.

Jax didn’t understand much of their language, but he caught the word ‘ _aruetii_ ’. He knew enough to know it meant outsider or traitor. Maybe the dark-haired man was an outsider; he certainly looked like one. That didn’t mean he deserved to get beaten by a bunch of bullies. With that thought driving him, Jax hit the alarm on his wristlink to signal Synna and Corso. A second later, he was striding toward the trio working over the restrained man.

He couldn’t yell at them to stop so Jax looked around, grabbed the nearest rock. His throwing aim wasn’t perfect, but he put his shoulder into hurling it at the nearest Mandalorian. The fist-sized stone struck hard enough to make the armor clang and send the man stumbling a step forward. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to stop the other from punching the restrained man in the face hard. Jax heard the crack of metal hitting skull and blood flew in an arc as the chestnut-haired man went limp for a moment. The Mandalorian Jax had struck cursed, getting the attention of the others. They dropped their victim to the ground and turned their attention to Jax. He stood his ground, hands near the blasters on his thighs, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t even try to sign; he didn’t think they’d bother to listen even if they understood.

The blond captain was a little surprised to see the darker-haired man struggling to his feet. Jax wasn’t sure if he didn’t realize he had help or not; he didn't look in Jax's direction. Instead, he threw himself at the nearest Mando, who gave a yelp of surprise as he went down under the other’s weight. It turned into a squeal of pain as his victim slammed a fist into his jaw, smacking his head against the ground. Jax gave a wordless gasp of warning as one of the Mandalorians whirled, lashing out with a heavy boot. It wasn’t loud enough though and an armored heel hit the man with a rib-breaking crack. The next caught the dark-haired man's temple, smacking him into a wall with a sickening thud.

A strangled noise of worry and rage spilled out of Jax in a raspy growl as he jerked a blaster free and fired. The sound was much louder than normal, confusing him until he realized there were two marks on the wall. One was less than a foot to the left; the one on the right even closer. The armored thugs froze and Jax turned his head, breathing a relieved sound to see Corso. The Kiffar's large customized blaster rifle, nicknamed Sergeant Boom-Boom, was raised. The smoking barrel revealed it as the source of the second shot.

“Now, I got no idea what’s going on here,” Corso said, his normally pleasant drawl edged with anger. “But I suggest the three of you move on. Go on. **Get!** ” He jerked the rifle to emphasis his words before aiming again.

The Mandalorians muttered, shifting. It was still three to two and Jax could tell they were considering attacking. The fury on their faces turned to uncertainty as Synna arrived a moment later, a blaster in her hand as well. Right behind her, armed with a dual vibro-sword, came Jax’s droid, 5P-4RK, or ‘Spark’. If a droid could look deadly serious and angry, Spark did. The droid's digits flicked on his weapon with an ominous hum as he moved toward the Mandalorians. The bullies' nerve broke and they backed away. Offering a few more insults in _Mando'a_ , they fled around the corner. Spark wasted no time in striding forward. Spark was always far more focused on Jax’s well-being than anything else; he’d been programmed that way years ago. Not even glancing at the injured form crumbled by the wall, the droid stalked after the retreating Mandalorians. He stood guard near the corner, making sure the bullies were gone.

Jax broke into a run, dropping to his knees beside the injured man once the danger was past. A careful hand touched his neck, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt a strong, steady pulse. That hard kick could have been fatal, but the brown-haired man was tougher than he looked. With a faint rasp of concern, Jax brushed the messy chestnut hair back. He winced to see gashes on the other’s head from both the kick and hitting the wall. He was breathing, but he was definitely unconscious for a while. In a moment of rare anger, Jax turned to Corso and Synna. He signed in sharp, angry movements so fast they could only blink. Corso’s eyebrows raised; he was somewhat better at understanding Jax's signs. He made a noise and tilted his head to talk to Synna.

“I don’t know everything he’s saying,” he said with a small blush. “but I think he ain’t saying anything too nice about those Mandos’ mothers...”

Jax stopped and snorted hard, breathing in short angry pants for a moment. When he was calm enough to slow down, he tried again. _‘Med kit? I need one. Please.’_

Synna came forward, grabbing hers to toss to him. “What are you doing?” She frowned as he gave her a look, turning around to use a kolto-bandage to wrap around the injured man’s head. “...And you thought my job was trouble? You’re the one picking up strays. You don’t even know him.” She made an offended noise as Jax signed for a moment with one hand and then returned to patching the stranger up. “I was different!” She folded her arms when Jax’s blue eyes gave her another of those looks. “You plan to take him back to the ship? What if he’s a criminal or something?”

Jax scoffed, waving Spark over to help him ease the wounded man on the load-lifter. _‘Well, even if he is, he’s outnumbered and unarmed. And he didn't deserve what they were doing to him.’_ Jax patted Spark, asking him to watch over the injured man as they headed for the ship.

Synna thinned her lips in worry, glancing at Corso. The Kiffar shrugged and gave her big brown eyes. No help on that front; Corso was as much a bleeding heart as Jax. Spark would only argue if the man was immediately dangerous. The co-captain of the Nexu sighed, rolling green eyes skyward before move to help secure their ‘guest’. “All right, all right, but if he tries to rob us, you’ll never hear the end of it from me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziminder Antilles wakes up aboard an unfamiliar ship, meeting one of the captains for the first time. He's rather surprised by how much he has in common with him already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick Note: Jaxon is mute (for several reasons) so he uses 'Galactic Standard Sign Language'. To show signing versus speaking, I'm using italics and apostrophes instead of quotes.

Ziminder wasn’t sure where he was. He just knew he hurt all over; the worst was the pounding in his head. He tried to open his eyes and flinched, making a noise of pain. The light felt like someone driving a vibroblade into his brain. With a groan, he tried to ask someone to turn it down, or better yet off. His mouth was too dry, but someone must have been there. They seemed to understand what the problem was too. The light dimmed so at least it was bearable behind his closed lids. He wanted to ask for a drink as well, but couldn’t seem to manage that either. Again, his still unseen caretaker seemed to understand. A straw touched his lips and he instinctively took several swallows. Whatever it was, it was cold and sweet and soothing.

The bounty hunter relaxed for a moment and then tensed, feeling a surge of panic. Why wasn’t the person talking to him? For an awful moment, he wondered if his hearing had been damaged more severely. He remembered a brutal kick slamming his head into a wall. He relaxed when he realized he could hear his own breathing. There was the small sounds of his movements on the bed and someone beside him as well. They were there and he could hear, but they weren't say anything. Was it a droid? Some could only manage binary. He dismissed that thought when a hand touched his hair. The fingers were warm and calloused; definitely not the metal of a droid. He could feel several spots on his skull that throbbed painfully. The fingers were very careful though as they smoothed over his scalp. The gentle petting was calming enough that Zim drifted off again. He wanted to know what was going on, but he was in too much pain to solve any mysteries. Instead, sleep crept over him again.

He woke up a few more times. Once there was a feminine voice that seemed to have a conversation with someone that didn’t talk back. It was strange, but he was only aware of it long enough to wonder what her name was. The next time, there was a male voice and he was singing. It was off-key but the voice was pleasant and had an easy drawl. Zim had no idea who the man was singing to, but the fact it was nice instead of hurting his head was good. He wished he could manage to wake up all the way but the effort was too much. His mind was fuzzy and sleep took him again in a few moments.

When he opened his eyes again, his head ached but it was more tolerable. A few blinks let his eyes focus in the low light and Ziminder sat up with a groan. There was a brief wave of dizziness that cleared after a moment. He looked around, surprised and a bit confused. He’d assumed he’d wake up in some clinic, but he seemed to be in someone's room. It wasn’t very large and had the look of a spaceship. Everything was either bolted or magnetized to the floor so it didn’t shift unexpectedly. It was neat and clean with walls of bluish durasteel. Definitely a ship and Zim felt a bit of alarm that he might not be on Concordia still.

He raised a brow seeing unfamiliar clothing folded on the single chair and glanced down. He was a little worried to see he was only in his boxers. He had no idea where his clothing was. The shirt he could live without, but that was one of his favorite jackets! He breathed a sigh of relief to see his missing jacket hanging by the door. That mystery solved, he looked himself over, trying to see how bad it was.

There were bandages around his chest and fading bruises all over. He reached up, touching his head, feeling a small bandage at his temple and at the back of his neck. Even the touch of his own fingers made it worse, but a thought occurred to him. With alarm, he ran a hand through his hair. It was messy, but intact to Zim’s relief. He would have been very unhappy if his head had been shaved...

The bounty hunter stood up, a little shaky but able to get to the chair. The clothing wasn’t his and certainly not the quality he normally wore. It was clean though and comfortable. When he slipped on the gray pants they were just about the right size. The waist was a bit bigger but the drawstring helped that. He pulled on a light blue shirt; again about the right size but a little loose. He felt better being clothed; somewhat less vulnerable. He was considering what to do when the door opened and Zim turned to face it.

The man walking in froze for a moment in surprise, eyebrows raising. He was around Zim’s height or a few centimeters more. His skin was a warm amber, several shades darker than a messy mane of platinum blond dreadlocks. The ends of each was dyed; turning the bottom half into a mass of bright jewel tones. They contrasted with the plain white shirt and brown pants the man was wearing. The sight of the odd, but charming hair made Zim smile before he could help himself. The man was attractive enough with almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones over a full mouth. There was the muted metal gleam of cybernetics around his ears and over his left eye. The side of his face also had long-healed scars; burns by the look of it. The ridged scars circled his left eye and went over his cheek, running down his neck and under his shirt. He was muscular, a bit thicker than Ziminder, but not heavy-set. The flash of scars showed around his left elbow under the pushed-up sleeve.

For a moment, the blonde stared at Zim before he smiled back. The bounty hunter blinked, stunned for a few seconds. That warm, friendly smile moved the other man up from ‘pretty’ to downright gorgeous. It was hard to explain what changed with a smile, but Zim couldn't deny it. The blonde definitely had considerable charisma and an innate attractiveness. Zim found himself relaxing without meaning too. Clearing his throat, he offered a small wave, trying not to blush.

“Well, hello there,” Zim said. “Um...I take it this is your ship...?”

When the man only nodded, Zim's brow creased in confusion. His host stepped forward and setting down a tray. From the looks of it, it was two glasses with a small pitcher of some purple juice and some kind of dumplings in a bowl. The savory smell was enticing and made Zim’s stomach growl. His host made an odd little raspy sound in his throat, almost a purr and waved at the food with raised eyebrows.

“For me?” Zim said, quirking an eyebrow. “Did you know I was waking up?”

The blonde shook his head again, sitting down in now empty chair, tapping the locks so he could slide it over near the bed. Once again, he was silent and the bounty hunter sat down, looking puzzled. He took a glass of juice, sipping a bit. He hummed with pleasure at the crisp, fresh taste. Zim was pretty sure it was from the native Concordia fruits. Hopefully that meant he was still on the forest moon. His host pushed the bowl toward him and he tried one of the little fried dumplings. The meat was spicy and delicious with a bit of gravy. He gave a happy little groan, picking up another one almost immediately. He slanted a glance and was greeted by another pretty smile, but still no words.

For a few minutes, Zim waited to see if the other would speak finally. It was so odd that he didn't; he seemed friendly and even cheerful. Yet he was silent. Unable to take it any longer, the bounty hunter finally cleared his throat. “So...I’m Ziminder Antilles? You can call me Zim.” The blonde responded with a nod and a smile. The bounty hunter waited another second and finally huffed in frustration. “What’s your name?”

For a moment, the other man looked uncertain, brow creasing. Zim wondered if he didn’t understand Basic. He dismissed that thought after a moment. His host didn't look confused; he seemed troubled. They stared at each other for a long minute. Zim's brown eyes met the brilliant blue with a questioning look. At least, a little sigh escaped the blonde.

 _‘My name is Jaxon,’_ the man signed at him, looking resigned. _‘And you probably won’t understand a bit of this. People usually don’t. I wish I could tell you to be patient someone will-’_

“I do!” Zim interrupted, a big grin on his face. “I understand.” He signed with his words. The movements a little stilted from lack of practice but understandable. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone else that--”

 _‘You sign!’_ Jax’s grin matched Zim’s in sheer delight. _‘Hello! I didn’t realize you understood! I would have said something!’_

“You can’t speak? Can you hear?” Zim asked, still smiling in a bright flash against his brown skin.

Jax nodded with a hum. _‘I can hear fine with my cybernetics.’_ He turned his head, pushing back a dreadlock dyed half-green, showing his ear. _‘Speaking is very hard though. I got hurt. Here.’_ He tapped the side of his head. _‘And here’._ He lifted his chin, showing nasty scars across his throat. _‘Signing is much easier for me.’_

“How do you get people to understand then? It must be hard...?” Zim raised his eyebrows, sipping the drink.

 _‘Spark translates most of the time,’_ Jax signed. _‘My droid. My friends help too. Corso and Synna both are learning for me.’_ The warm smile on his face made it clear he appreciated that fact.

“Are they your crew?” Zim asked, glancing past toward the still open door. “I think I remember hearing voices?”

The blonde nodded again. _‘Yes. Synna’s the Co-Captain and Corso is our Second-in-Command.’_ He rose, raising his eyebrows. _‘Would you like to come meet them?’_

“Uh, yes,” Zim said after a moment, rising and smoothing a hand through his hair. “...After that I don’t suppose I could take a shower?” He felt a little uncomfortable meeting new people with bed-head and possibly smelling.

Jax made that odd little raspy sound again and Zim realized it was his version of a chuckle. _‘Of course,’_ Jax assured. _‘Come on. Let’s go see if we can hunt everyone down to meet you, Zim.’_   That warm smile curved his lips again and Zim mirrored, feeling himself relax again. Jax had something about him that made Zim feel like he could trust him. _‘I think you’ll like them.’_

 _'Okay',_ the bounty hunter signed back, earning one of those lovely smiles. He returned it as he let Jax lead him out into the ship.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Jaxon Starr belongs to me (http://smuggler-captain.tumblr.com/).  
> Synna Gedrow belongs to JB (http://jbnonsense.tumblr.com/).  
> Ziminder Antilles belongs to Kaos (http://kaosstar.tumblr.com/).


End file.
